


daybreak

by vanishingxact



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 04:42:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19716427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanishingxact/pseuds/vanishingxact
Summary: Inspiration struck to write something, but I'm so rusty that I wanted to start with a drabble first and this is what came out. Long time shipper, first time (publicly) writing. I haven't written any fic of any kind in well over five years, so I apologise if this is rubbish. It was written at 3am in the midst of a head cold, so I'm gonna blame that if it *is* rubbish.





	daybreak

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration struck to write something, but I'm so rusty that I wanted to start with a drabble first and this is what came out. Long time shipper, first time (publicly) writing. I haven't written any fic of any kind in well over five years, so I apologise if this is rubbish. It was written at 3am in the midst of a head cold, so I'm gonna blame that if it *is* rubbish.

The sound of sparrows chattering to each other is what first rouses Roger from his dreams, their song coming in through the crack in the window. Rafa likes to sleep with it open a bit; he says it’s so he can hear the sea when he’s at home, and when he’s away it’s a hard habit to break. The English sunrise filtering through the light curtains is dull, meaning it’s far from being a civilized hour unless you happen to be a sparrow. How is it that Rafa isn’t disturbed by them?  
  
_Rafa._  
  
Roger can feel the warmth of his body beside him, the press of his hip at the base of Roger’s spine after rolling onto his back when they’d fallen asleep spooning. Nothing much had happened last night. They’d been talking late and Rafa had invited him to stay once the hour crawled beyond 1:00AM, and Roger had agreed despite countless promises to himself that this would stop. It _had to_ stop. And yet here he is.  
  
A smile softens Roger’s face when the familiar, intimate touch of fingertips brushes just below his shoulder blade; the relatively new scar has become somewhat of a fixation of Rafa’s since it healed over. “Raf,” he says, turning his head on the pillow to meet Rafa’s sleepy gaze. “Always thinking, Rogi, so loud you waked me with your stress,” Rafa mumbles as he rolls himself in closer, wrapping his body around Roger’s again. They are skin to skin everywhere and Roger subconsciously pushes his body back, getting as close as he can in the cool of the summer dawn. He says nothing, because there’s nothing to be said to that.  
  
“Those birds,” Roger says, after such a long time he thinks Rafa must’ve fallen back to sleep. “Don’t wanna talk about birds,” Rafa sighs against his neck. “Neither do you. I know, babe.” Roger turns over in Rafa’s arms and lets him kiss away the loudest voices even if it’s only for a little while.


End file.
